I swung my sword until I got hungry, then sat cross-legged at the main gate and kept glaring at the Seven Killers of Yunnan. The reason I was staring at them was simple—because I had nothing else to do.

The eldest brother was still lying down.

After a while, one of the six got up and moved the largest table to the center, then started setting down the prepared food one dish at a time.

I looked at the meal and spoke.

"...Are you inviting me to dine together?"

The faces of the Seven Killers of Yunnan stiffened at once.

"......."

Looking at them, I said,

"Just kidding. Of course we’ll eat together. You set the table, after all."

I called to the eldest brother lying down.

"Eldest, let’s eat."

I thought he was asleep, but he immediately got up and walked to the table. After glancing over the dishes, he spoke to Manbak Magun.

"Taste it."

Manbak Magun replied,

"You really think I’d poison the food when I plan to eat with you?"

The eldest brother stared at him silently. Manbak Magun gave a dry cough, then stepped forward, picked up a pair of chopsticks, and sampled each dish, adding pointless commentary as he went.

"This one’s a bit salty. Mm, this one’s fine. Bland, though."

As I headed to the table, I said,

"Shut it. Just taste, don’t rate."

Once the tasting was over, Manbak Magun said to us,

"No poison."

The eldest brother sat at the table first and said to me,

"Let’s eat."

The table wasn’t particularly large, so we either had to sit close or eat standing.

Of course, I sat next to the eldest brother and picked up my chopsticks.

"Let’s try the Seven Killers’ cooking. What kind of poison might be in it? Could it be the peak of tasteless, odorless, colorless triple-poison? What if it’s got Powder of Drunken Dreams mixed in, and Manbak Magun already took the antidote beforehand? Then what?"

The eldest brother answered,

"In that case, you'd halt your breath and qi circulation to stop the poison’s spread, then forcibly vomit it out. If things are urgent, kill the parties involved and get the antidote before the poison spreads. If there’s no antidote, find a place to hide and meditate while circulating qi to resist it."

Of course I already knew all this, but the eldest brother recited it like an old manual from the Demonic Cult.

Anyway, once we began eating, the Seven Killers of Yunnan also started shoveling food into their mouths.

Seems like there really was no poison.

After tasting the savory soy-braised beef, I let out a soft sound of admiration and then folded my arms.

"...Hey. Who made this?"

One guy with an unusually wide face raised his hand slightly. I asked him,

"What’s your nickname?"

He answered stiffly, probably not wanting to use honorifics with me.

"Golden Dough Ghost."

From the look of it, he was the cook of the Seven Killers. To be honest, I have a condition where I don’t remember the nicknames of people I don’t care about, and ‘Golden Dough Ghost’ didn’t really click. It didn’t match the flavor of the beef.

Even while eating, I faintly sensed the killing intent from the Seven Killers.

We were too close for it not to be there. Now and then, Manbak Magun sighed and glanced at his younger brothers—probably telling them to restrain themselves, since he was the only one who had accurately gauged the martial level of me and the eldest brother.

The eldest brother ate without a word.

While eating, I kept observing Manbak Magun and the others.

"There’s liquor near the pantry. Bring it later."

"......."

"Food, liquor, powder poison, contact poison, blade poison, needle poison—if any of that gets used here, I’ll take it as a crime and kill all seven of you. If one of you runs, I’ll kill the other six first, then chase you down and kill you too. If I kill anyone here, the eldest will pursue them. If the eldest stays behind, I’ll chase them. For reference, our light footwork ranks within the top five of Jianghu."

I rambled vaguely.

Saying I’d kill them while eating rice and side dishes, one guy choked mid-bite and started coughing. I didn’t care. It had been a while since I’d had a proper meal, so I kept talking excitedly.

"You dumbasses, why’d you go attack Cheongsong Sect and end up in this mess? Come to think of it, there’s no way you’d know {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} which small sects pay tribute to the Demonic Cult. And you can’t possibly track which sects are affiliated with Haomun. So as a rule, don’t go bothering people. Manbak Old Man, you half-bald bastard. They say you’re one of the top 100 masters in Jianghu?"

Manbak gave a dry cough, then replied,

"That’s what people say."

"Nice. According to Gongson the strategist from the Murim Alliance, I’m supposedly ranked 101. Let’s eat and see. Time I joined the top 100."

The eldest brother, who had been quietly eating with patience, looked at me with pity.

"Third."

"What."

"I think I’m going to get indigestion. Can we stop?"

"Fine."

"Yeah. Finish eating and talk afterward."

"That’s better. Meals should be quiet anyway."

Since his digestion was important, I shut up. After a while, the six killers cleared away the table and opened space for a duel. Oddly, they seemed more eager about fighting than Manbak Magun himself.

***

The Seven Killers of Yunnan sat on the opposite side.

The eldest brother and I took time to digest as we waited. He was playing with a freshly carved wooden sword, then asked Manbak Magun,

"Half-bald, ready?"

Manbak Magun nodded.

"Ready."

The eldest brother lightly tossed the wooden sword he'd carved with a dagger toward Manbak Magun. The speed wasn’t fast, but it flew straight and level, almost mesmerizingly so. Manbak Magun caught it and asked,

"...Do we really have to use wooden swords?"

The eldest brother responded with a cold smile.

"It’s the only way to reduce the chance of your head splitting or your limbs breaking. If anyone interferes in this duel, I’ll consider it a fight to the death and join in."

I grabbed the wooden sword I had carved and walked to the center. Just how strong was someone ranked in the top 100 of Jianghu? I honestly wasn’t sure.

Still, it all felt like an extension of training.

Fight, think, eat, talk, tease, doubt, drink, bully the bald guy...

Manbak Magun walked out, his patchy hair fluttering. He should’ve been far stronger than the Great Rakshasa, yet for some reason, I felt nothing.

Lowering his wooden sword diagonally, Manbak Magun said,

"...It’s an honor to face the infamous Lord of Haomun."

"Great. If I lose, I’ll join as the second of the Yunnan Eight Killers."

"And if I lose?"

"Then your remaining life is spent as a jomsoi. Until I release you."

As we squared off, I realized that too much had gone into this one strike I was about to swing. Sword techniques I had trained alone, techniques influenced by Im Sobaek, and a mix of all the miscellaneous martial arts I had learned, plus the combined internal and external energy guided by Cheonak.

Unexpectedly, Manbak Magun smiled.

Was he afraid of the eldest brother but not of me?

At that moment, I saw a single hair on Manbak Magun’s head twitch. In the blink of an eye, his wooden sword came sweeping across to engulf my entire body. The trajectory was unclear, but I still responded with a downward strike. I had expected our swords to meet near the tips.

As the wooden swords clashed, both of us leapt back.

A brief skirmish. From the contact of our weapons in that instant, we gauged each other’s internal and external energy. We saw each other’s speed and footwork. One exchange was over. I took note of the six others’ expressions, stances, and killing intent. If they were true enemies, dragging out the fight wouldn’t be ideal.

To end it in two moves, I recalled the duel at Oksoo Villa.

I infused my wooden sword with internal energy and watched Manbak Magun’s hair. I lunged in with a move that would force him to defend, provoking a counterattack using reactive force, and combined it with my external energy to slash down. Just like Manbak Magun did earlier, I locked his entire body within my sword path.

Crack—a sound rang out as Manbak Magun’s sword shattered into splinters.

But before the wooden shards could even scatter, his palm struck straight into my chest. It wasn’t a prepared move, but an instinctive counter born from training.

Instinct for him, but expected by me.

He might have used a poison palm, so I channeled the qi of the cockfighting rooster and countered the force.

BOOOOOM!

A gust of wind blasted against my face from the collision of internal energies. My hair flared up in unison. Manbak Magun’s body shot vertically into the air, punched through a temporary construction wall, and blood sprayed from his mouth in midair. The moment he hit the ground, he rolled over and stopped moving like a corpse.

All six rushed toward Manbak Magun.

"Elder!"

They might try to run, so I leapt up, kicked off a wall, somersaulted midair, and landed near the fallen Manbak Magun.

One of them placed his hand under his nose.

"He’s unconscious."

I glanced at the Six Killers.

"Carry him inside. Two of you repair the wall. One of you go light more torches."

No one answered.

Watching them move in silence, I called out,

"...Hey, guys."

They looked at me.

"......."

I said with a blank expression,

"You came here to kill me and the eldest. There’s a limit to how lenient I can be. I’m doing this because I’m planning to fight the Demonic Cult you’re all so scared of. You're alive because I’m still mentally stable—for now. I don’t care if you’re older than me, my seniors, or if you hate me. If I ask something, answer. Otherwise, let’s do this—six-on-one. Your call."

One of them answered quickly.

"Understood. I’ll answer properly from now on."

He had stayed quiet until now, but with his calm voice and composed demeanor, I guessed he was the second.

"What’s your nickname?"

He replied,

"Flying Sword Ghost."

I waved my hand. The Six Killers lifted the unconscious Manbak Magun and went back inside. I looked up at the slightly darkened sky and scanned the outside of the inn. In the distance, a procession of torches was approaching in a neat line.

"......."

It was clearly a military force. Just from the torches, I couldn’t tell if they were friend or foe, but the direction they came from meant they were enemies.

I took a deep breath and called out to them with internal energy laced in my voice.

"...State your affiliation."

There was a delay, perhaps due to the time it took sound to travel. After a moment, someone answered from the group.

"Zhongcheon."

I didn’t know them. The name overlapped with the Zhongcheon Trade Group—so they were enemies. Probably a faction affiliated with the Demonic Cult’s outer division. Reinforcements arriving to occupy the remaining unburned barracks.

I climbed the wall of the Zaha Guest House and looked at the eldest.

He was still sitting calmly at the table and, meeting my gaze, gave a single nod. No matter who came, his composure remained unchanged.

As we looked at each other, we smiled at the same time.

The vanguard of the torchlit line had reached the ruins of the barracks and formed ranks. Seeing them arrive, the eldest brother spoke first in a welcoming tone, voice infused with internal energy.

"...Who goes there?"

A man outside responded.

"Unfortunate circumstances, but I’ve arrived with the Geumho Division."

The Sword Demon nodded.

"Geumho Commander, welcome. I doubt you came alone."

"By dawn, the Left Guardian should arrive too."

"Then rest for tonight. I’ll meet the incoming Left Guardian tomorrow."

A short silence followed before the Geumho Commander responded.

"Let’s do that."

I walked along the top of the wall, sat cross-legged, and watched as more and more torches gathered like fireflies. It was quite the sight. Flames floating on a black sea, lining up in precise order. Occasionally, under the flames, I glimpsed the faint faces and eyes of cultists.

A surprisingly quiet force.

When a command was given, they began extinguishing their torches one by one. Under the moonlight, I could just make out that they were sitting in formation. They’d camp like that without tents.

As the rear group arrived, all remaining torches were extinguished.

They meant to spend the night in complete darkness.

I kept my eyes on the shrouded forces.

How could one trust the Demonic Cult?

There might be a night raid, so I stood watch instead of the eldest.

As I stared into the dark, my eyes adjusted. Now I could faintly see their entire formation seated in rows.

While sitting cross-legged and staring...

Someone from the center of the enemy line called out to me.

"...Are you the Lord of Haomun?"

I looked toward the voice. I could only see a vague silhouette, but I tried to meet their eyes and nodded.

"I am."

After that, silence enveloped everything around the Zaha Guest House. Beneath the stars and hidden among the shadows, I murmured toward the cultists:

"You sure brought a lot of people just to catch one jomsoi from Zaha."

I smiled while staring into the darkness.